The Travels of Richard William Poole

Little Richard is pulling upon my arm as I write.  Even in his second year, he has the sense of adventure and daring I am told I also displayed at his age.  His speech is still mostly single words.  At this time he is saying “sheeps”, though I understand he means he wishes to play about with the new lambs.

Corrine has just offered to take little Richard upon this quest that I may continue to write.  She is as she once said, that being that she considers him her grandson.  I do believe there was never a grandmother quite so devoted to, nor unfortunately, so easily swayed by a grandchild.  She allows little Richard to escape punishment for even the most severe infraction of my rules.  Yesterday, my search for a small plane that was a particular favorite was unsuccessful until I walked to the house for supper.  I spied it lying upon the ground, the smooth sole wet with dew and almost certain to warp.  Little Richard had been visiting the workshop with Corrine that afternoon.

She laughed at my angry words, saying I would do well to remember my own transgressions as a child before being critical of my son.  I did not argue the matter, for Corrine will not hear of any words spoken against little Richard.

When I go to the dining room for supper, Katherine will be sitting at the table with Corrine.  Little Helen, my daughter named after Katherine’s mother, will be comfortably nursing away at Katherine’s breast.  Helen is much smaller than I remembered little Richard to be, though her birth seemed to take as long.  I did not fear for Katherine so much this time.  Molly was there and Helen came into this world without incident.

Millie has supper nearly ready.  We are having a roasted chicken with porridge and pease, and unless I am mistaken, there is a fine cobbler in the oven for dessert.  Millie has changed somewhat over the last year.  Peter saved his salary, and presented Millie’s father with an adequate dowry.  They said the banns a month past and were then married.  As I watch her looking at Katherine, I doubt ‘twill be long before Millie is doing likewise.  Peter has confessed to me that Millie has thrown away his lambskin.

William and Molly shall be entering the dining room as well.  Lambing is over, but William has a mare about which he has some concerns.  The mare is small and the Shire stallion tends to throw large foals.  They are in the stable and Molly is making certain of the mare’s condition.  

Molly moved into William’s two rooms the same day on which he relocated from the cow shed.  I doubt they will marry.  Molly is past child bearing, or so she told Katherine, so there be no difficulties with the surname of any children.  They seem content to enjoy each other, both in the bed and out.  William smiles a great deal more now than when we first met, and I understand the reasons for his mood.

I should be going back to the workshop.  We, meaning Jacob, Steven, and I have orders for six chairs for the magistrate’s court in Stechford.  They are two young men who, like me, were unfortunate enough to be born second in line behind older brothers.  I do not call them apprentices, for I pay them for their work.  Our method is for one of them to do the roughing out, while I do the final cuts, planing, and scraping.  I must admit I do not miss the hours with a rip saw making narrow boards from wide ones, nor the fatigue of using the large rough plane.  Steven in particular is becoming quite adept with both the saw and the plane.  Perhaps I will allow him to do this work on the next contract.

Our chairs will sit just as comfortably as those from Birmingham or Leichester, but will cost the magistrate a tidy sum less.  It would appear this division of labor between those with skills and those without is the future of work.  I cannot say I feel strongly either way, though my income has increased due to the increase in volume of work, and two young men have brass in their pockets instead of dust from the fields.

Tomorrow, I must remember to repair little Richard’s old cradle.  As he grew in strength and stature, he discovered he could make it sway to and fro.  Upon one occasion, his fro exceeded the stability of the legs, and over went the whole thing, little Richard included.  He survived with only a bruise to his forehead, though such were Corrine’s efforts to calm him afterwards, it was as if she thought him to be near death’s door.  The cradle suffered a greater injury, that being a broken joint near the headboard.  It is a simple thing to repair, and the sooner said repair is completed, the sooner Helen will sleep in the cradle instead of in the wicker basket Millie uses for laundry.

My beautiful Katherine has not returned to her former size as quickly as after little Richard was birthed, and she is somewhat ashamed of her body.  Tonight, once Helen is safely swaddled in her laundry basket, I believe I shall explain to Katherine that her body is just as beautiful and exciting as before.  I think she will not believe me, but perhaps demonstrating my attraction to her will somewhat put her concerns to rest.  Perhaps I shall demonstrate that attraction more than once, even thrice, though the final will of necessity be more of a manual demonstration on my part.  

I think Katherine will not mind.  While her hips are perhaps a bit larger, and her belly a bit not so firm as before, her desires have not diminished.  Just last evening, while nursing Helen, she asked if I would attempt to steal some of Helen’s breakfast.  I did not answer until she laid Helen in the basket and pulled the nightdress over her head.  My answer then was to suckle first one large nipple and then the other until Katherine was beside herself with passion.  As my stiff cock slipped inside her wetness, I found myself wondering if our third would be a son or a daughter.  The thought lasted on for a moment, for Katherine gasped and arched into my slow thrust.

“Faster, Richard.  Oh…yes.. and deep…as deep as you may reach.”

I believe I should take another helper soon, for I may require the profits resulting from work I currently turn away.  If the past is an indication of the future, Katherine will continue to desire her pleasures morning and night, and I shall be more than willing to oblige her.  As William had toasted that night of little Richard’s birth, “To Katherine, the mother so gentle, who nurses the babe at her breast, may she wish to be seeded again and again, as soon as she’s had a good rest.”, and Katherine does seem to be of that very thought.

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